


To and Fro

by sevsgirl72



Category: House M.D.
Genre: Established Relationship, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-10-19
Updated: 2008-10-19
Packaged: 2018-05-29 09:14:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6368809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sevsgirl72/pseuds/sevsgirl72
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>House and Wilson pacing the hall for no reason...or is there one?</p>
            </blockquote>





	To and Fro

**Author's Note:**

> An old fic, migrating the good stuff written over the years from LJ.
> 
> It was also a part of this challenge that I never finished: Pick a novel, preferably one of more than 100 pages in length, and take the first (full) sentence off of the top of page; 10, 20, 30, 40 & ect. Until you have ten quotes. Take said ten quotes and write fics based on them. You can use the whole quote, or just a section, even a word – all that matters is that you stay faithful to the first sentence part of the challenge. I used The Complete Sherlock Holmes.

_"You see," remarked Holmes, as we paced to and fro in front of the house, “this marriage rather simplifies matters."_  
  
***  
  
“What are you talking about House?!”  
  
They’d been walking back and forth for at least 20 minutes now, but for what reason Wilson didn’t know. The diagnosis would have been just as easily worked out in the office, or in the caf, or anywhere that didn’t involve pacing. Pacing which in all circumstances was strange when it came to House.  
  
Awkward limping and pacing aside, he’d been following House’s logic perfectly fine until the word ‘marriage’ came into it; they’d been talking about chronic coughing.  
  
“Marriage?”  
  
“Us? It’s not legal in this state.”  
  
Wilson rolled his eyes looking askance at the man as they turned to walk back down the hallway for what might have been the millionth time. “You said marriage House. Who’s getting married?”  
  
“The patient, he just proposed to his girlfriend. It would have been sweet if he was a little less _dying._ ”  
  
“Okay, so he wanted to make sure he got the chance before he died. Perfectly natural.” They turned again. “So why are we pacing?”  
  
“He’s not dying,” House scoffed, ignoring the question.  
  
“What do you mean he’s not dying? I thought it was some sort of poisoning? You just said…”  
  
“I lied, he’s not dying. It’s Whooping cough. I already started him on antibiotics. He’ll be fine in a few days. At least until he finds out that she only said yes _because_ he was dying.”  
  
“How can you possibly know that?” Another spin and they were both moving down the hall. Again. “And we’re still pacing.”  
  
“She wouldn’t wear his sweater without asking.”  
  
“And that means she doesn’t love him, how?”  
  
“Would I ever ask to borrow one of your sweaters? Or ask to eat your food?”  
  
Wilson stopped short. The obscure sentiment hadn’t been lost on him. It alone actually made up for every time the infuriating man had stolen his carefully made meals, except for the pancakes of course, but it was enough to keep a little smile on his face for a while.  
  
House had stopped a few steps ahead when he saw Wilson pause and turned to face him, a little smirk playing on his face. As Wilson caught up, they were finally on the back in House’s office.  
  
House collapsed in his chair, sticking a leg up on his desk, and occupying himself with fishing out a pill to flick it into his mouth. Wilson relaxed into the chair across the desk. They were both silently for a moment, thankful that they were finally sitting down after all the aimless walking.  
  
“Wait, why were we pacing?” Wilson said sitting up and zeroing his eyes upon House. The man never did anything with out reason.  
  
“I thought I’d exercise my leg.”  
  
Wilson frowned at the sarcastic reply, calling out the man’s name in a comical, but effective, stern voice he didn't use often enough.  
  
House of course had all the nerve to stare at him with open and unhindered mischief. “It really would have been bad form if I let you catch Kutner breaking into your office.”


End file.
